resulta sorprendente, reparador y conmovedor al punto de ojo vidrioso sentirme de tal o cual modo, y que llegue a mi la necesidad de leer x libro, y que cuando este llega a mis manos el autor casualmente haya escrito las palabras específicas que definen mis estados de ánimo....es un suspiro de alivio, igual al que exhalo cuando estoy sola frente al mar y me invade la certeza de que en el otro extremo hay alguien, quienquiera que sea escuchando el mismo murmullo constante del mar...es una alivio saber que siempre al otro extremo hay alguien.

" i am a traitor of my name: i'm not cheerful or domestic. i'm drab, crabby and friendless. i fill my days fighting a constant battle to keep my dignity. loneliness is my curse --our species' curse-- it's the gun that shoots the bullets that make us dance on a saloon floor and humiliate ourselves in front of strangers."........."you're here. you're reading this words. is this a coincidence? maybe you think fate is only for others. maybe you're ashamed to be reading about loneliness--maybe someone will catch you and they'll know your secret stain. and then maybe you're not even very sure what loneliness is--that's common. we cripple our children for life by not telling them what loneliness is, all of its shades and implications. when it clubs us on the head, usually just after we leave home, we're blindsided. we have not idea what hit us. we think we're diseased, schizoid, bipolar, monstrous and lacking in dietary chromium. it takes us until thirty to figure out what it was that sucked the joy from our youth, that made our brains shriek and burn on the inside, even while our exteriors made us seem as confident and bronzed as Qantas pilots. loneliness.

douglas coupland / eleanor rigby